Mystery Science Theater 3000: A New (Not-Too-Distant) Future

Mike Nelson, the blonde temp in a dark grey jumpsuit hired by Dr. Clayton Forrester and his assistant TV's Frank, had begun an unexpected but very interesting conversation with a purple robot named Gypsy. Apparently Gypsy was one of four robots created by a kind, sleepy-eyed human named Joel Robinson, who were all trapped and living aboard the Satellite of Love. At that very moment she was desperately searching for a way to get Joel off the satellite for fear of his life.

"That's amazing Gypsy. Well, we gotta do something." Mike found a large ringed binder full of details, files and schematics revolving around 'Gizmonic Institute' and opened it up. He rested the binder on the small control panel in front of him. "Here's a manifest for the 'Satellite of Love'; maybe there's something here that can help." He began flipping through the pages.

"Oh, yes! Please, please, please!" Gypsy watched from the satellite's live feed with eager anticipation.

"Alright, I assume you-" Mike was cut off midsentence when an unusually pale gentleman in a purple cloak with a green hued brain in a large dish appeared behind him. Mike, sensing someone standing behind him, stopped reading and looked back at the person who manifested out of nowhere. "Gah!" He saw the exposed brain and took a step back in horror and disgust. "What are you doing with that brain? And who are you anyway?"

"Michael J. Nelson." The pale man spoke with a tinge on hostility in his voice as he answered the confused blonde.

"Hey, I'm Michael J. Nelson, too. But just call me Mike." He grinned like an idiot as he extended his hand to shake.

"Silence!" The pale man pointed a single finger at Mike. "You are a destroyer of worlds and must be stopped."

"Destroyer of worlds?!" He pulled his hand back as put both of his hands up defensively. "You've got the wrong guy, I've never a destroyed a world! I've never even been out of the country. This is huge a mistake!"

"There is no mistake to be made. I bore witness to the very atrocities of which you have been accused."

"What are you talking about?" Mike was beginning to panic when he suddenly remembered Gypsy still on the screen. "Hey Gypsy! Do you know this guy? Do you know what he's talking about?"

"Nuh-uh." She shook her head 'no'. "Never seen him before Mike. But if you really did destroy some worlds..."

"I didn't!" Mike defended himself sincerely and returned his focus to his pale accuser. "I really didn't!"

"Silence!" The accuser repeated. "To ensure the safety of my world, and the other worlds that are destined to fall victim to your apathetic incompetence, you shall be preemptively incarcerated until a more suitable permanent solution can be found."

"Incarcerated? You mean I'm going to jail?!" Mike took another step back from the pale man and started slowly backing toward the large door across the room. "I am not going to spend the rest of my life in jail for something I didn't do!"

"Yet."

"Pardon?"

"You're going to spend the rest of your life incarcerated for something you haven't done, yet."

"Wait, are you from the future?"

"No, I'm psychic." He dryly retorted while rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell if some guy I just met holding a giant green brain is being sarcastic or not. Are you from the future or really a psychic?"

The pale accuser closed his eyes in frustration. "Your overwhelming ignorance is all the more infuriating, 'Mike the Destroyer'."

Mike bolted for the door as quickly as he could, the attached heavy leg iron slowing his pace in the process. He grabbed ahold of the large door handle and tried to pry it open to escape.

"Hey!" The accused noticed Mike's attempts to flee. "You cannot run."

"Can too!"

By this time Frank had returned to check on Mike's progress. "Hey, hey, hey! What is going on here?" He stared up and down the pale intruder and noticed the exposed brain in the dish. "Nice brain! Is it yours?" He quickly relapsed into his evil persona. "I mean, how'd you get in here? Who are you?"

"TV's Frank." The pale man answered as he immediately recognized the unexpectedly polite but naïve lackey.

"Hey, I'm TV's Frank! You impostor! I oughta-"

"Wait," Mike overheard the odd confrontation from the door. "he told me his name was 'Michael J. Nelson'!"

"Oh really..." Frank crossed his arms in unfounded arrogance. "so which is it? Are you 'Michael J. Nelson' or 'TV's Frank'?"

"What? Neither!" The pale man shook his head in utter annoyance. "Imbeciles... Allow me to properly introduce myself: I am called 'Observer'."

Mike returned to the center of the room. "Then why'd you say your name was-"

"I didn't! I wasn't giving you my name, I was merely addressing you by your name upon my initial arrival, you towering ignoramus!"

"But you just told me-"

"No! I was addressing you by your name also!" He stared at Mike and Frank for a brief second. "How can a species as dense as humans have possibly evolved to the highest form of intelligent life on this ocean covered rock?"

Mike and Frank looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and answered with a simple. "I don't know."

Observer sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "That was rhetorical, you weren't meant to provide an actual answer."

Frank put his hand on Observer's shoulder and pushed him back. "Answer my question you pasty liar! What's going on?"

"I..." Observer removed Frank's hand from his shoulder and straightened his cloak. "I am here to take Michael J. Nelson to an intergalactic prison to prevent this buffoon from committing multiple acts of genocide."

"Genocide!?" Frank couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Mike, what the heck's wrong with you man?"

"I didn't do anything!"

Observer added. "Yet."

"Right, yet." Mike agreed. "Please Frank, you gotta help me! I don't know what's going on and I don't want to spend the rest of my life in jail!"

"The rest of your life?" Frank put his hand to his chin as pondered the idea. "Well, seeing as Dr. Forrester and I were just going to kill you anyway, I think this is the best option."

"Oh, well, if it's the-" Mike's eyes got wide as he just realized what Frank said. "You were going to KILL ME?!"

Gypsy, still watching from the satellite also overheard the revelation. "They were going to kill MIKE? Not Joel? Oh thanks Heavens!" It was then she felt a little guilty for being so happy. "Oh! Poor Mike! I have to help him!" She tried to get Frank and Observers' attentions. "Hey! Hey you guys! Hey!"

Frank, Observer and Mike all looked at Gypsy on the monitor. "What?" Frank asked sounding a little irritated.

"Uh, you guys should leave Mike alone! He's a nice guy!"

"Nice guy?" Frank scoffed at the notion. "You only just met him, how would you know?"

"Uh..." Gypsy was struggling to answer. "Well, I was programmed to know nice people from bad people! Mike's nice and you're bad! So there!"

Observer sighed unamused. "Ah yes, the robot called Gypsy. Of course she'd speak up on poor Mike's behalf."

"Huh?" Mike didn't understand what he was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, right. Time travel. You see Mike, you and those annoying little toys on that ridiculous spacecraft become quite good friends. At least, you did until I decided to alter the current timeline for the betterment of the universe."

"You altered the timeline?"

"Yes. And now we must be off."

"To where?"

"Haven't you been paying attention at all?" Observer was losing his patience. "You are going to be incarcerated to prevent genocide. Now, we must be off." He looked over at Frank. "Frank."

Frank responded flatly. "Observer. Mike."

Mike replied in the same demeanor. "Frank. Observer."

Observer joined in. "Mike." He held out his brain. "Say good-bye to your little friend."

Sadly Mike waved good-bye to Gypsy through the monitor. "Bye Gypsy. Thank for trying to help."

Observer shook his head and in an instant he and Mike were gone from the basement of 'Deep 13'.

Frank was left standing alone. He looked around the now vacated area. "Well, that was easy. I wonder if 'Golden Girls' is on..." He walked out of the room leaving Gypsy with a blank monitor screen.

"Oh my stars!" Gypsy was genuinely worried about poor Mike. "I have to do something! I have to tell Joel! Joel will fix it! He can fix anything!"